Shadows of the Past
by Spingleburt
Summary: When a tacticion running from his past, is found unconscious on the Sacaen plains by Lyn, their lives change dramatically.Rated for violence and mild language.
1. Prologue: A Girl From The Plains

I started this fanfic in April of 2005. Due to several factors, the main one being that I'm too lazy by far, I haven't touched this over two years. I finally remembered about it last week and decided to give it another go. I've altered it the original chapters along the way, but I'm afraid that you're still stuck with the original piece of shit first chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

Prologue: A Girl From The Plains

0-0

"Are you awake?" a voice asked.

The figure in bed nearly screamed in pain as he stirred. When he opened his eyes he saw the owner of the voice. She had long dark green hair that was tied back in a ponytail by a hair band. Despite this it still reached down beneath her knees. Her skin was porcelain white which contrasted her green eyes beautifully.

"My name's Lyn. I found you unconscious on the plains. You're safe now that you're in the care of the Lorca tribe." The woman smiled at him.

The figure realized he was gawping and immediately clamped his mouth shut. He began to study his surroundings before saying anything. He was in a small house. Opposite the bed he was lying in, was a small stove. There was a curtained off area where he guessed a bathtub would be. With the additions of the table, chairs and chests it was quite a cosy place.

"Who are you? Can you remember your name?" Lyn asked. She sounded worried by the figures' lack of speech so far.

Coming back to his senses he toyed with the idea of feigning amnesia. "No that would be foolish," he thought to himself. "I may as well tell the truth. A name is just a name after all," he decided. "Uh, my name…Yeah, it's Mark," he finally replied.

Lyn looked relieved, having heard Mark talk. "Your name is Mark? Well it's certainly unusual," she mused to herself. "But pay me no mind. It is a good name."

Mark just smiled. Lyn was rambling in an effort to fill in the large gaps he left in the conversation. He wondered how to get out of this situation. He sat up and stifled a cry. His chest burned in pain. He felt bandages around his chest; pressing against them he nearly passed out in agony. "Shit!" he thought to himself. "I owe her my life."

"I'm guessing that you're a traveller by your attire," Lyn attempted to start up the conversation again. "What brings you to the Sacae Plains? Would you share your story with me?

"Oh yeah! There it was," Mark thought to himself. "Damn it! I don't know enough about Sacae to lie. Should I tell her everything? I suppose I should. My life's indebted to her now. Oh well, here goes." He was just about to speak when they heard a strangled cry. It sounded as if it was a long way off.

"Hm? What was that?" Lyn looked panicky. "I'll go see what's happening. Mark, wait here for me!" With that she left the house.

After several attempts Mark managed to get out of bed. It took him another few minutes to stand. "Great. That's a few broken ribs at least," he muttered to himself. It hurt to just breath now. However he persevered and made it to the door, just in time for Lyn to nearly run him down.

"They're bandits! They must have come down from the Bern Mountains, planning to raid the local villages." The Sacaen paused in thought. "I…I have to stop them!" As she said this, she pulled on some fingerless gloves. Next she tied a scabbard to her waist with what appeared to a belt made of braided horsehair. She calmed down a little. "If it's only the two of them I should be able to handle them on my own." She turned to Mark, "You'll be safe in here," she informed him.

Mark just shook his head. "No, Lyn I'm coming with you," he stated matter of factly.

Lyn turned back to him. "You want to help? Well can you use a weapon?" she questioned him.

"Not at the moment," Mark admitted. "However the bandits don't know that.

Lyn looked puzzled by this remark.

"It'll distract some of them, making it easier for you to deal with the others. Divide and conquer," Mark explained. "I can also give you advice during the battle if you need it."

A look of comprehension dawned on Lyn's face. "Ah, I see…so you're a strategist by trade? A strange profession, but…" She ran after Mark as he had already walked out of her house. "Very well. We'll go together!"

0-0

Mark had surveyed the scene by the time Lyn caught up to him. "Alright Lyn this shouldn't be to hard. Head west and take out the bandit there. After that's done head north and meet me by that…tent thingy."

"It's called a ger," Lyn informed him before running off towards the bandit to the west. She stopped and waited for the bandit to rush her. As he did, she sidestepped the axe swung at her; she drew her sword and slashed it at her assailant's stomach in one movement.

The bandit doubled over in pain and screamed. He lashed out with his foot, catching Lyn in the shin. She staggered backwards and barely dodged the second swing of the axe. She was amazed at her opponent's tenacity. She couldn't dodge the third blow and screamed as the heavy weapon left a long gash in her thigh.

The bandit charged in for another attack and impaled himself on Lyn's outstretched sword. Blood gurgled from his mouth and he fell to the ground dead. Lyn pulled out a vulnery from her pack and applied the salve to her wound. Sighing as the wound faded away leaving only a slight ache behind, she removed her sword from her dead foe's chest and set off for the ger.

0-0

Mark saw none of this as he approached the bandit guarding the ger. He knew the cur had spotted him and was watching his approach. "This is just great," Mark said to no one. "This guy looks tough, argh!" he hissed as he stumbled causing his chest to complain. "Damn! I can barely walk, let alone fight…Oh well, here goes."

He cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. "Hey there!" he addressed the heavily built man guarding the ger.

The man glowered at him. "Who do you think you are? You think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?"

"In answer to your first question, I think I'm me!" Mark replied as coolly as is possible while shouting. "I'm guessing you're Batta, right?" What to do now? He saw Lyn in the corner of his eye. She was running towards them as fast as she could. She was however, still a way off.

Mark assessed the situation in his mind. Lyn wasn't a match for Batta in a straight fight, especially if he remained in an easily defendable position. He ran through everything his father had taught him. Then it hit him, he'd draw the bandit out. "Hey Batta! You got the beast part right! I can smell you from here!" Mark shouted.

Batta growled at the insult and charged towards Mark. Mark on the other hand stood there calmly. Just as Batta was about to strike down Mark, Lyn rammed into the bandit's side at full speed, knocking them both to the ground.

Lyn was the first to her feet and immediately took the opportunity to slash at Batta's vulnerable form. He rolled away and only took a small wound to his back. Lyn then had to leap backwards in order to dodge a violent slash. She ducked the next blow and caught the third with her sword.

Lyn maintained her stance as Batta pressed his axe down as hard as he could. Lyn couldn't hold it up forever, as she was weaker than the bandit. She couldn't break the lock either without the possibility of losing her arm. She wasn't expecting the punch from Batta's right hand. As she sprawled on the floor she dropped her sword.

She looked up at Batta with fear in her eyes, as he raised his axe to deliver the final blow. It didn't come, instead she saw him swing his right elbow behind him and heard Mark cry out. She grabbed her sword and thrust upwards through the brigand's chest.

"What? How…how did you…" Batta managed to stammer, before sinking to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Panting in relief Lyn stood and looked to Mark, who was still hanging onto Batta's axe. "Sorry if I worried you." She helped the traveller to his feet. "I didn't think he'd be that strong. I need to train more…train so no one can defeat me."

Mark just nodded and pointed to the ger. Lyn nodded and they headed towards it in unison. As they entered, a scream and an iron pot came the other way to greet Mark's head. With a small groan he sank to the floor and passed out.

0-0

"Good morning, Mark!" Lyn's voice chirped out. "Are you awake yet?"

"Hmm, déjà vu," Mark muttered as he opened his eyes and found himself in Lyn's house again.

Seeing that Mark was awake, Lyn started talking again. "That fight yesterday must have taken a lot out of you.

As Mark sat up, his head began to swim, and the memory of the pot returned. He felt nauseous as he moved. "Ugh…I think it was that pot that took it out of me," he replied sourly. "What happened?" he inquired. At least his chest wasn't hurting so much today.

"The woman who knocked you out was a captive of that bandit. She was the one we heard." Lyn explained. "Anyway she wanted to escape and thought that you were Batta returning."

Mark shifted so he was sitting on the beds edge and spread his arm's wide, wincing slightly as he did so. "Come on, do I really look that fat?" Mark asked in a hurt tone. "So where's the escape artist?"

Lyn smirked at Mark's first question. "She left for Bulgar at dawn." A look of doubt crossed her face. "Say, Mark," she hesitated. "I want to talk to you about something."

Inwardly, Mark starting cursing in every language he knew. "Damn it!" he thought to himself. "She'll want to know what happened to me. Mind you, it might be safe to tell her. Maybe the bounty hasn't reached here yet." He nodded for Lyn's benefit.

"I saw yesterday that you have some experience in warfare." Lyn looked at Mark hopefully. "Would you let me travel with you?"

Well that was unexpected. However, if she were to travel with him, Lyn would be putting her life in considerable danger, as well as increasing Mark's chances of being captured. Mark decided that his trump card would work, as she didn't much older than eighteen years of age. "If that's what you want, but shouldn't you ask your parents for permission first?"

Lyn looked devastated. "My…my parents?"

"Well, they have the right to know that there daughter wants to wander off with some stranger." This had never failed before and it looked like it wouldn't now. Especially when Lyn looked so upset.

"My mother and my father…they died six months ago. My people…the Lorca…they don't," Lyn's voice cracked. "I'm the last of my tribe. Bandits attacked, and…they killed so many people." She started to sob now. "The tribe was scattered."

Mark saw all this and hated himself. He hated himself for making one so beautiful cry. For trying to shun someone who was on her own, just like him. All he could do though, was offer Lyn a shoulder to cry on. He hugged Lyn, ignoring the pain in his chest as she returned the embrace.

After a while, Lyn calmed down a bit. Much to Mark's embarrassment though she still held on to him. "My father was our chieftain, and I wanted to protect our people. But I'm so young, and my people were old-fashioned. They wouldn't follow a woman. No one would follow me." She sniffed and stopped her tears. "I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long…" she trailed off thoughtfully. She was still hugging Mark.

Mark felt himself starting to blush. He let go off Lyn, hoping that likewise she'd release him. When nothing happened he assumed, that he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Lyn snapped out of her thoughts. "No, I will shed no more tears." She hugged Mark a little tighter then released him. "Thank you, I think I'm better now. Mark, I want…" she stopped and corrected herself, "I must become stronger so I may avenge my father's death!"

"Yesterday's battle taught me something. I won't become stronger by sitting here alone." Lyn sounded surer of herself now, much to Mark's relief. "Mark, tell me you'll train me, that you'll let me travel with you!" She gave him a pleading look.

You should know that I'm not a proper tactician. My father was and he taught me for a while."

This didn't perturb Lyn. "I need to get stronger. You still have things to learn. We can help each other"

"Well I can't exactly say no, when you put it like that," Mark replied. He smiled as he saw a look of pure joy cross Lyn's face.

"You will? That's wonderful! Thank you! Oh, thank you! We'll be better off working together. I know it. You'll be my maser strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior! We can do it! Right?"

"Sure we can!" Mark encouraged his new companion. As Lyn began bustling around gathering supplies for their journey, Mark sat back down on the bed. "Master strategist?" he muttered to himself. "Peerless warrior?" Shaking his head in disbelief at his new companion's naivety, he settled down for a quick nap, after all he was still weak from his injuries.

0-0

I know my grammar isn't up to much. However that's something I think I'll be working on for the rest of my life. The good news is that you want to read the next few chapters, you don't have to wait as they're already up.

Spingleburt.


	2. Footsteps of Fate

Before this chapters starts I'd like to apologize to anyone called Gladys (who actually likes her name) Sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

0-0

Mark and Lyn had been travelling for three days when they reached Bulgar. As they entered city, Lyn ran ahead and called back to her companion. "Mark! Over here!"

They were standing in a broad street that was teeming with life. As they stood taking in the sight, the bustle of everyday life continued around them.

"This is the biggest city in all of Sacae," Lyn sounded immensely proud of this. Her face was practically glowing with pride.

Mark had to admit it was impressive for Sacae. In any other country it would have been nothing out of the ordinary. However as the largest settlement he had seen in Sacae so far was a hamlet of five houses, this was a massive contrast. He whistled in admiration.

"We should gather supplies for our journey," suggested Lyn.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mark agreed. "How about we split up. That way we can be on our way faster." Seeing Lyn nod, the so called tactician set off towards an interesting looking shop. "See you back here in an hour!" he called back over his shoulder.

0-0

Half an hour later a tall figure with dark brown hair, wearing a green cloak walked down a small alley. Two people took notice of this. One recognized the young man as his prey and set off after him. The other noted him as someone walking into trouble. She supposed she should lend a hand. With a sigh she followed both of them down the alley. Some people could be so clueless.

0-0

Mark was revelling in the cool air of the alleyway that made such a nice contrast to the heat of midday Bulgar. He liked the alleyway. That was until a cold blade was pressed against his throat. An arm wrapped itself around his chest pinning his arms to his sides. "Aww crap," he hissed, partly out of his stupidity, partly because his broken ribs were being ground together.

"You got that right," replied a gruff voice by Mark's ear. "Now if you co-operate I won't hurt you too much."

Mark shuddered at the stench of the breath. "Well you see, there's the problem right there. I'm broke, so can you just let me go now."

"Ah my friend, you misunderstand." The voice chuckled. "I don't want your money. I want you!"

Mark heard the faintest of sounds from further down the alley. The sound you get when someone is trying his or her best to make no noise. He needed to distract his captor. Unless this was an accomplice, in which case he was in even more trouble "Sorry, I'm not inclined that way. Maybe if you had the decency to wash first. I may consider it."

"Just shut up you little sh…"

There was a wet ripping sound and Mark was released. He turned to see a man sprawled on the ground, gurgling with his throat slit. He looked up at a woman with bright red hair that obscured one of her crimson eyes. She was wearing a dark blue tunic and a gaudy yellow cloak.

"Thanks!" Mark breathed a sigh of relief. Then he noticed the woman still held her knife at the ready. "Look I have at least five broken ribs. I'm not going to try anything. So please put that knife away."

She nodded and flicked her wrist. The knife vanished from view. "Mind telling me what that was about?" Her tone of voice indicated that her knife was near at hand, and that she expected an answer.

Mark crouched down by the dead man and winched as his ribs protested. "No idea," he replied. He started to check the corpse's pocket for anything that might identify him.

"Why don't I believe that?" the mysterious woman replied curtly. Her face though wore an amused look.

Mark found a pouch full of gold. He tossed it to his saviour who deftly caught it. "Why are you so interested?" With that he continued his search.

"Call it professional curiosity."

Mark found another dagger sheathed up the dead man's left sleeve. There was a matching sheath on the right arm as well. He ran the last remark through his head, as he took the sheaths and stuffed them into his pack. "You're a spy aren't you?"

The redhead's smile slipped for a moment. "Hmm, not bad. Hey kid, you want a job?" She tossed the pouch back to Mark.

He felt like laughing, as it was considerably lighter now, than when he had first held it. "Already got one. Thanks for the help by the way." He stood up and started back towards the main street.

The spy grabbed his wrist. "You still haven't answered my first question."

"I've pissed of some people in my time. Let's leave it at that. Okay?" He moved to leave, but the grip on his wrist tightened.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Joseph." Mark didn't have time for this, but it looked like he had little choice. "And you are?"

"The name's Gladys. Now, what's your real name boy?"

Mark grinned. "I don't see why I should tell you, when you gave me a false name as well."

"Ah, touché!" With that _Gladys_ released her grip on Mark's wrist. "See you around." She turned and despite her bright cloak seemingly melted into the shadows.

"I seriously doubt it," Mark muttered under his breath as he hurried out of the alley.

0-0

Mark arrived at the meeting point to find Lyn in a heated conversation with a cavalier in green armour. He slowly approached the two.

Lyn turned and saw him. "Let's go Mark. I've nothing more to say." She strode off forcing Mark to run in order to catch up to her.

"What was that about?" Mark inquired.

"Oh, some idiotic knight from Lycia was hitting on me. He's so full of himself it's a surprise he doesn't explode."

"It's no wonder that he tried, you are beautiful," he blurted out before he could stop himself. He cringed. That didn't sound like him at all. He realised he was blushing.

Lyn seeing his embarrassment, smiled warmly at him. She was too busy watching her companion and not the road. She walked straight into the horse of the knight from earlier. Another cavalier now joined him. "Excuse me! You're blocking the road." There was clearly annoyance in her voice. "If you would be so kind as to move your horses…

The second knight in red armour replied. "Of course. My apologies!" He gave a light tug on his reins and his horse moved out of the way.

"Thank you. You at least, seem honourable enough," Lyn's tone lightened.

The cavalier's brow scrunched in thought. "Hm? Pardon me but…I feel we've met before."

Mark laughed out loud at this. It seemed Lyn was very popular today. He stopped laughing when Lyn shot him a look of pure venom.

"I beg your pardon?" Lyn's voice was as cold as ice.

The cavalier in green armour butted in at this point. "Hey! No fair Kent! I saw her first!" He sounded mortified by his friend's attempts at stealing this beauty out from under his nose.

"Tsk! It seems there are no decent men among Lycia's knights! Let's go Mark! I've run out of patience!"

Mark found himself being dragged down the street by the near livid Sacaen. He still found it hard not to laugh.

0-0

"Run! We're being pursued!" Lyn cried as she took off through the woods.

She and Mark had been travelling for half an hour when they noticed they were being flanked by a group of men. Now Mark following Lyn, running as fast as his chest would allow. He'd spotted at least three men in pursuit. Something wasn't right though. They weren't running straight for them, but flanking them on either side as if to…

"Lyn! Watch out, they're herding us!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

As he did this Lyn rolled under a swinging axe, and brought her sword up in a sweeping arc. Her blade split open her attackers chest, as he was about to take a second swing at her. "Could it be those knights from town?" she asked as Mark caught up to her. "No…it's not them these men are out for blood!"

A large man with a scar above his right eye and a bristled chin stepped into view chuckling. "Aren't you the pretty one! Your name is Lyndis is it not?"

Despite the circumstance Mark started to laugh. How come everyone was trying to chat up Lyn today? Wait, he called her Lyndis? What the hell?

Lyn in contrast to Mark's mirth was shocked. "What did you call me?" She paused and lowered her sword. "Who are you?"

"Such a waste. An absolute waste," he said while eyeing up Lyn. "The things I'll do for gold…" he sighed. "Ah, well. Time to die, darlin'! C'mon out boys!"

Lyn and Mark were suddenly surrounded as several bandits emerged from the surrounding trees. Lyn tightened her grip on her sword and Mark picked up a large fallen branch, wielding it like a club.

Lyn charged the leader and abruptly jumped backwards in order to avoid being hewn in two by his axe. She landed on her back and rolled to her right. The axe thudded into the ground and inch from her neck. She swept the feet out from another bandit as she stood. The bandit hit the ground dead, as Lyn's sword was in the way of his neck while he fell. Lyn then had to back off as another bandit charged her.

It wasn't looking good, as Lyn was out numbered three to one while Mark was holding off the other two brigands with his branch/club. Mark stumbled and his two attackers charged simultaneously. He swung the long branch as hard as he could at head height.

One of the brigands caught the branch in his neck. A sickening crack pointed towards a shattered spine as the corpse hit the floor. The other brigand dodged the blow, but his chest sprouted a green lance tip. He coughed up some blood and collapsed as the lance was withdrawn.

The cavalier with green armour grinned down at Mark. "Whew…finally caught up…" He was panting melodramatically, despite the fact that his horse had done all the running. As he said this, his companion charged past on his horse with sword drawn.

The red knight swung his sword as he passed the melee Lyn was involved in. The sword parted a brigand's head from his shoulders. As his horse turned he saw Lyn kick a bandit backwards onto the green knight's lance.

The bandit's leader stared in shock as his men were slaughtered in a few seconds. He felt a sharp pain and looked down at the sword piercing his heart. "Blast…There was only…be a lone…girl…" he trailed off as the last of his life left him.

0-0

The spy calling herself Gladys was standing outside Bulgar's main guardhouse. There was a board with bounties displayed on it. Her eyes passed over a notice that read "Wanted Dead or Alive, Batta the Beast, Reward 5000 gold." After awhile she found what she was looking for. There was a picture on it. There was no doubt about it, it was definitely him.

She read it aloud to herself, "Wanted alive, extremely dangerous, approach with maximum caution." She tore down the notice and pocketed it when no one was watching. Well, now she knew his name. She whistled at the vast amount offered for his capture. "Fifty thousand gold! What did you do Mark?"

0-0

It was now dusk on the plains. Kent and Sain were setting up a small camp while Lyn and Mark talked.

"Okay, let me get this straight." Mark started. "You're real name is Lyndis?"

"Yes, but please call me Lyn," Lyndis/Lyn replied. Her head was hung in shame at having deceiving her friend.

Mark saw this and smirked. "Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets," he muttered under his breath. Well, he would respect her request; after all he was living a lie at the moment.

Lyn looked up. "What was that?" she inquired.

"Don't worry about it Lyn," Mark reassured her. "So Madelyn, your mother was next in line to the throne of Caelin, until she eloped with your father, Hassar? He continued

Lyn nodded. "Although they never mentioned Caelin."

"Okay, so Madelyn sent word of your existence to the Marquess of Caelin, who also happens to be your grandfather. Who in turn sends these two…" Mark jerked his thumb at Kent and Sain while they struggled with a tent. "Now Lundgren your Great Uncle wants you dead, so that he'll inherit Caelin's throne."

Lyn sighed. "That just about sums it up. What are we going to do now? From what Kent said, Lundgren will continue to send assassins after me." She shook her head in disbelief. "It looks like I have no choice except to go to Caelin with Kent and Sain. Then maybe we can settle the whole affair."

Mark realised that Lyn was talking to herself. He politely coughed.

Lyn turned to her companion. "Mark I'm sorry," she apologized. "This changes everything. What will you do Mark?"

This caught Mark off guard. "Huh? Er… well I suppose I'll…you should decide." After all he figured that he still owed her his life. Without her he would have died of hunger days ago. Assuming that he somehow managed to survive his broken ribs without aid.

He supposed that he was lucky that custom only allowed one life debt at a time. Otherwise he'd be bound to Sain and Kent as well as that _Gladys_ woman. "Man," he thought to himself, "Gladys has got to be the worst cover name in existence. That's the sort of name a fifty year old would find old fashioned." He realised that Lyn was speaking and snapped back to reality.

"…panionship would do much to ease my journey but…" she paused. "It's going to be so dangerous." Her voice was now thick with concern.

Mark laughed at the irony of it all. Less than a week ago their roles had been reversed. "Any less dangerous than two people facing down the Taliver Bandits? I'll come."

"You'll come? Are you sure? Thank you!" Lyn brightened up almost instantly. "Let me ask once again for your friendship and aid" She hugged Mark, and then went off to rescue Kent from a collapsed tent.

Mark just sat and rubbed his sore ribs. "Why does she have to hug so hard?"

0-0

If anyone doesn't like the liberty I took with a certain character. I'm sorry.

See ya,  
Spingleburt


	3. Sword of Spirits

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

0-0

The group set off on their journey the next day. Kent and Sain rode ahead while Mark and Lyn walked together.

"Mark, wait a moment, can we make a short detour? There's a sacred sword enshrined in an alter to the east," Lyn looked hopefully at the tactician.

Mark considered this for a few seconds. "Sure, why not?" He was lost in thought as they headed towards the shrine. "Hmm, a sacred sword. Could be useful in a fight."

"What!" Lyn's fist connected with the side of Mark's head. "How dare you suggest taking the Mani Katti!"

Mark was knocked backwards by the blow and landed awkwardly on the ground. His broken ribs were jarred sending waves of agony coursing though him. His scream changed Lyn's expression of anger, to one of concern almost instantly.

"Oh, Mark I'm so sorry!" She was beside him instantly, only to find he had passed out. "Kent! Sain!" she called out to the cavaliers.

The two knights rode back, from where they had been scouting out the surrounding terrain. Reigning in his horse Kent saw the tactician on the ground with Lyn kneeling over him. "Milady what happened?" He drew his sword expecting trouble.

Lyn looked up at the red headed knight. "I'll explain later," her eyes were drawn to the sword in Kent's hand. "We're not under attack, but Mark's hurt! He needs to see a healer immediately!"

"Fear not Milady!" Sain cried as he brought his steed to stop nearby. "There are a few houses near a shrine, not far from here." He had evidently been further a field than his companion.

Lyn carefully lifted the prone body of the tactician up to Sain's waiting arms. She then hopped onto Kent's horse behind him and they rode off.

0-0

"I didn't mean to hurt him so much," a voice said meekly.

Mark slowly opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He failed miserably and flopped back onto the bed he found himself in.

"Oh thank Mother Earth, he's awake!" Lyn exclaimed in relief. She was standing next to the bed with Sain and Kent. "How do you feel?"

Mark groaned. His head ached and his chest burned. "This is starting to become a bad habit," he muttered grumpily.

"Bad habit?" Kent asked bemused.

"This is the third time I've woken up in a strange bed with Lyn nearby," Mark responded.

Sain glanced at the young Sacaen with a knowing look. "Oh ye…oww! Kent what did you do that for!" Sain was now hopping around the room clutching his foot.

Kent was wearing a blush that matched Lyn's. "Oh dear. I appear to have trodden on your foot," Kent replied in a droll tone. Deciding to leave Lyn to apologize, Kent grabbed Sain by the back of his armour, and dragged him out of the room.

"Sain has definitely got a one track mind!" Mark guffawed, before breaking into a painful coughing fit. His chest hurt like hell, but he couldn't stop the coughs.

Lyn passed him a glass of water. Which he gratefully sipped at, in between his coughing fits. When his coughing had subsided Mark smiled at Lyn. "I should be fine, just as long as I don't laugh anymore"

"Mark I'm so sorry…" the Sacaen began.

"Shh, it's not your fault," Mark told her. "If I hadn't broken my ribs in the first place. This wouldn't have happened. So it's my fault, okay?" Mark tried to sit up again. The bandages around his chest restricted his movement. "If you still feel sorry, you can help me sit up and all will be forgiven."

"But the physician said you shouldn't move for a few days!" Lyn stated.

"Who cares?" Mark replied nonchalantly.

"I do!" This shocked Lyn just as much as it did Mark. "I mean…I er…I'm the one that hurt you."

"Well if you care, you'll help me sit up." Mark relied flatly. Much to his relief, Lyn gave in and helped him into a sitting position. "Thank you."

"What happened to you Mark?"

Mark had dreaded this moment since he had met Lyn. During their journey so far, nearly all they had spoken of was tactics and the ways of warfare. It had only been a matter of time before they had this conversation. "Well…" he began. "I suggested using some sacred sword then you pun…"

"You know what I mean!"

Mark just sighed. "Would you believe me, if I were to say I fell from the sky?"

"No I would not!" Lyn stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at Mark.

"Well that's all I'm saying."

Lyn huffed and stormed out of the room.

Mark watched her go with a halfhearted smile. Deciding there was nothing else to do, he dozed off.

0-0

Kent and Sain watched as Lyn stormed out of the house they were occupying.

Sain leaned over and nudged Kent in the ribs. "What do you reckon my boon companion? A lovers tiff perhaps?" He grinned at the scandalized look Kent shot him.

"It is not our place to guess," Kent replied. "We are knights of Caelin, not gossip mongers."

Sain just rolled his eyes. "Yes Mother!" he droned, then winced when Kent's hand connected with the back of his head.

0-0

Mark was awoken by a commotion in the next room. He heard raised voices. Carefully he stood up. His legs were a bit wobbly but he managed to walk to the door and open it. In the next room he saw Kent trying to calm down, whom Mark guessed was the owner of the house.

"Please calm down and tell me again, what happened at the shrine?" the cavalier said calmly.

The owner of the house, a short, brown haired woman in her forties, took a deep breath and started her tale again.

Mark listened as she described the gang of "ruffians" who were trying to steal the sacred sword from its altar. What caught his ear the most was that Lyn had rushed off on her own to prevent this from happening.

The woman finished her story and Kent looked up. He spotted Mark standing in the doorway. "Mark! You shouldn't be up!" he ushered the weakened tactician back into the other room. "Now get some rest."

"But Lyn needs our help!" Mark protested. "I can help." His legs faltered.

Kent caught him with ease. "You can barely stand. Leave this to me and Sain." With that Kent helped Mark onto the bed and left the room, closing the door behind him

Mark heard a key turn in the lock. "Stubborn knight," he muttered to himself.

0-0

"What do we do now?" Kent asked his partner. They sat on their steeds looking at the uneven terrain that blocked their way. "We could go on foot, but we'll never reach Milady Lyndis in time."

Sain flashed him a smile. "I think I have the answer."

Kent looked at him incredulously.

"When I was talking to some of the local girls…"

"You mean flirting."

"Call it what you will," Sain grinned. "One of them mentioned a weak section of wall in the shrine. It's supposedly near here."

Kent sighed. No matter how much of a nuisance Sain was at times, he was still useful. "Alright let's find this weak wall." He turned his horse and cantered off alongside the wall studying it closely.

0-0

Lyn stood outside of the shrine panting. The third bandit had been tougher than she had expected. She paused to apply a vulnery to the gash on her left arm. As always, she sighed at the cool feeling of the salve, as it mended her arm. Pulling her sword from the corpse at her feet, she turned and entered the shrine.

Their at the far end was the alter of the sword. Lyn saw a tall man standing in front of it trying to draw a sword from its scabbard. She recognized the sword instantly. The Mani Katti, the mystic blade of spirits. And that fool was trying to steal it!

Crying in rage Lyn charged through the shrine to put this sacrilege to an end. As she passed the centre of the shrine, she tripped over a foot protruding from behind a pillar. Rolling to the side Lyn narrowly avoided the axe that slammed into the floor.

Lyn was back on her feet within seconds. She parried a blow from the brigand and counter attacked. Lyn's thrust missed its mark as her opponent spun to the side. Lyn then ducked in order to avoid decapitation, as the brigand completed his spin bringing the axe round at neck height. As she rose, Lyn dragged her sword upwards across the chest of her enemy.

Lyn watched dispassionately as the man slowly fell to his knees and keeled over dead. Turning towards the alter she saw her next target.

He was calmly walking towards Lyn, exuding confidence. "I am Glass, the master swordsman. You're not that bad, but you do not stand a chance against my peerless swordsmanship." He drew his sword and charged.

0-0

"Stop!" Kent commanded his partner. "I can hear fighting inside. Damn! We won't break through in time."

"Fear not! The ever so handsome Sain shall save the day once again!" With that Sain started to check that his headband was still in place.

Kent waited for a few seconds. Sain was still preening. "What the hell are you doing Sain!?"

"I have to look my best for when I save the day." Sain looked up to the glare Kent was sending his way. "Alright, here goes nothing." Sain pulled back hard on his horse's reigns, causing the beast to rear up.

The horse tottered forward a few steps, before slamming its front hooves into the already weakened wall. The wall gave way in a shower of stone and mortar. Sain urged his steed forward into the shrine with his lance at the ready. He stopped when he saw no one there but Lyn. "My lady where is the enemy?" he asked her.

She was standing near the wall with an unbelieving expression. She looked at the mound of rubble Sain's horse was standing on. "Er… right under you."

Sain prodded the mound with his lance. "Well I don't think they're getting up again milady." He reported. "By the way, there aren't any fair maidens in here, who might have been impressed by my entrance are there?" Sain asked hopefully.

Lyn just shook her head in disbelief and strode up to the altar.

0-0

Mark smiled triumphantly as the door swung open. He'd failed miserably when he tried to pick the lock. So he just settled for dismantling it. He stepped over the small pile of lock components, and replaced the dagger in its sheath, now strapped to his left arm matching its twin on his right arm.

He reached into a pocket and removed a few gold coins. He left these on the table in the centre of the room he was now in. He was sure it was more than enough to cover the damage. Grimacing slightly as his chest complained, Mark left the house in search of his companions.

To his surprise a blinding flash emanated from the shrine half a mile to his east. When his sight had returned, Mark set of towards the source of the light. "This can't be good. What the hell would make that much light," he muttered to himself

As Mark neared the large building he spied a jagged looking hole in its wall. "Great, they've got explosives. Damn it," he swore under his breath. He walked over to the wall and unsheathed both daggers. As voices from inside approached, Mark hid behind a tree near the breach in the wall.

The voices were talking about a sword with no equal. If they were in possession of the Mani Katti, Lyn must have failed. Mark's grip on his daggers tightened until his knuckles turned white. "At least I can avenge her death," he growled.

The people were in the open now, silhouetted by the sunlight, an easy target. Two led horses while another carried a glowing sword. Mark no longer listened to their words as he took aim to throw his daggers. Just as he was about to strike, the one carrying the sword spoke.

"We'll have to go and pick up Mark," the voice was Lyn's. "I think he's going to be really annoyed about you locking him up, Kent."

"Shit! I nearly killed Lyn," Mark hissed between clenched teeth. He quickly hid his daggers before calling out, "You're damn right I am!" He laughed as his companions turned around in shock.

"How did you get out?" Kent asked, obviously confused.

"Ah, now that would be telling wouldn't it?" Mark grinned as he turned to Lyn. He looked at the glowing sword she held. "Hypocrite!"

Lyn mumbled a barely audible "Sorry," before Sain interjected on her behalf.

"The fair Lady Lyndis did not choose to use the Mani Katti. It chose her as its wielder. It was obviously attracted by her radiant beauty. Oww! Kent, what was that for!?"

Kent had once again slapped the back of Sain's head. "I swear you're incurable. Swords do not have eyes for the ladies."

"Unlike a certain cavalier we know," Lyn remarked dryly. This sparked a small argument between her and Sain, with Kent trying to referee.

Mark just walked off sniggering. He'd tempted fate and won. Now they had the mystical blade on their side. He realised as he continued to walk that the others were still arguing. He turned and picking up a stone, threw it at Sain. He smirked at Sain's outcry, and continued to walk in what he hoped was the right direction.

0-0

Well that was chapter three.

Spingleburt.


	4. Band of Mercenarys

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

0-0

"Milady. If my memory serves me well, there should be a village in the next valley." Kent informed Lyn as they rode along.

"You hear that Mark?" Lyn called over to the tactician were he rode behind Sain.

Mark turned his head and nodded. It had been ten days since he and Lyn had set out. Now they were passing the foothills of the Taliver Mountains, an area notorious for it's bandits. To speed their passing, he and Lyn rode behind Kent and Sain on their horses'.

"Hey, what's that?" Sain inquired. He was pointing to a plume of smoke coming from the next valley. "Looks like something's on fire."

As the horses entered the next valley their riders stared in horror at the sight before them. The smoke was coming from a settlement. It wasn't just one house that was on fire though. It was the entire village.

Mark had seen this before. It was only vague in his memory due to the passing of time, among other things. However, it was still unpleasant to recall. The heat of the flames. The screams of those still trapped in their burning houses.

He was aware that the others were talking but he didn't care as he remembered something else. Running through the flaming streets clutching a sword tightly, crying children close behind. There they were, the soldiers blocking his escape and the traitor. He clutched his sword even tighter. "I'll kill the people that did this," he growled.

"Oh! You to Mark?" Lyn sounded surprised. She smiled at the tactician gratefully.

Mark snapped out of his thoughts. He must have spoken aloud. " Uh…yeah, of course!" He had no idea what he'd just agreed to, but Lyn sounded happy about it.

Lyn blinked back tears as she tried to speak. "I…You're…" She settled for a simple, "Thank you".

"Come on. We need to carry on," Mark reminded them. He smiled as reassuringly as he could for Lyn's benefit.

As the group passed around a small wall they spotted two brawny men grabbing a small girl with lilac hair. Standing next to them was a pegasus. Mark paled at the sight of the winged creature.

No one noticed this, as their attentions were fixed to the scene in front of them. Lyn saw the pegasus, and hopped off Kent's horse. As she ran, she called out a name. "Florina! Florina is that you!"

Startled by Lyn's sudden appearance the men loosened their grip on the girl. She immediately ran to Lyn and embraced her.

Mark watched as the two men confronted Lyn while the girl cowered behind her. He tapped Sain on the shoulder. "Keep an eye out for trouble, I think there're more than those two around. Kent, go warn that village about a possible fight."

As Kent rode towards the village, the two men ran off while more bandits appeared from their hiding places. "Why did I have to be right," Mark moaned. "Sain we better go meet up with Lyn."

"Don't forget the other fair maiden with her," Sain chided his passenger as they rode over to the others.

"Okay Lyn what we have got?" Mark asked as he dismounted.

"These bandits want to kidnap my friend Florina here," Lyn pointed to the lilac haired girl who was preparing her pegasus for battle.

"Okay, and who's that?" Mark indicated a brown haired youth walking towards them from the nearby village.

"His name is Wil," Kent answered. He had just returned from warning the local villagers about the upcoming fight. "He has a grievance to settle with these bandits. He's an archer by the way."

"Alright, now lets see what the enemy have got." Mark noticed Sain approaching the lilac haired girl. "Sain! Stop molesting Florina and come over here." Mark considered his next move. As Sain stopped his horse nearby Mark climbed up behind him, his ribs only protesting slightly. "Now over by the wall," he ordered the cavalier.

Sain trotted his mount over to the wall. "There you go. Now do you mind telling me why we're doing this?"

"Keep her steady and all will be revealed." Mark stood up on the horses back and climbed onto the high wall. He took a good look at the surroundings. There was a mercenary on the other side of the wall, staring up at him. Mark judged the angles and distance. "Wil! Shoot an arrow just past my shoulder."

The archer complied and the arrow whistled past the tactician. There was a satisfying scream as it struck the mercenary in the chest. Mark smirked. "Okay, Florina go finish him off."

Despite the fact that Florina was on his side, Mark still quailed at the sight of the pegasus flying over his head.

Not caring whether Florina survived, Mark turned his attention to the rest of the area. The wall he was standing on was shaped like a large cross. There was another wall just south of the eastern prong of the wall. The narrow gap was perfect for defence as a small group of trees occupied the space.

"Lyn take out the archer hiding behind the wall to your east. Kent, Sain, follow Lyn. You'll see a small wood in between two walls. Defend that area, but watch out, there's another archer nearby. Wil go and pick off anyone you can."

As they headed off to carry out there orders a cry came from the other side of the wall. Mark turned to see Florina, wrench her lance out the corpse at the feet of her pegasus. "Florina! Go warn that village to the north, then haul your ass back here!"

Florina nodded and flew off.

"Now…" Mark clapped his hands together as he looked at the ten-foot wall he was standing on. "How do I get down from here?"

0-0

Mark's plan worked, as pretty soon all the bandits, save for their leader lay dead. Mark was still stuck on the wall as Florina was to scared to give him a lift on her pegasus, and secretly Mark was scared of the pegasus. After a few minutes of searching Mark found a section of wall low enough for him to jump off safely.

Now Lyn and the cavaliers had surrounded the remaining bandit. As Mark watched the man deftly dodged every attack, until one of Wil's arrows hit him in the leg. The bandit stumbled and was promptly beheaded by the Mani Katti.

"Umm…it's Mark isn't it?" Florina asked meekly from a distance.

Mark turned towards her. "Yes, what do you want?" His tone was harsher than it should have been, but he didn't care.

Florina tried to shrink back in her saddle. "The…the village gave…gave us this gold." She held up a heavy looking pouch.

"Good work Florina!" Lyn shouted as she raced towards them.

"Well someone's happy to see her," Mark muttered as Lyn embraced the pegasus knight on her mount. He walked over to where Wil and the cavaliers were talking.

"We should move on quickly," Kent said.

This puzzled Mark "Why? You dealt with the bandits?"

"He was of the Ganelon Bandits," Wil said and left it that.

"And that means?" Mark inquired.

"There are more of them," the archer answered. "And they won't let the deaths of their brothers rest. They'll hunt us."

"Alright that makes sense." Mark turned to leave. "Wait a minute! We?"

"If it's alright, Wil would like to tag along until we reach Lycia," Kent explained. "We could do with all the help we can get."

The tactician nodded. "That makes sense. Any objections Sain?"

Sain didn't reply, his eyes were fixed on Lyn and Florina.

"Kent, if you'd be so kind?"

"Certainly Mark." Kent slapped his fellow cavalier in the head. "Sain stop ogling our liege and her friend!"

Sain looked hurt. "But Kent, their beauty is remarkable. How can one not regard such radiance?" Sain defended himself.

Mark sighed. "Have you tried looking the other way, Sain?"

"What! That would be an insult to such magnificent exquisiteness!"

Mark shook his head in defeat and walked towards Lyn. He heard feet running to catch up with him. He turned to see it was Wil.

"Does he always act so strangely?" he asked.

"Strange isn't the word for it." Mark thought for a few seconds. "I'd say that perverted, is a better description of Sain's behaviour."

0-0


	5. In Occupations Shadow

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its associated characters.

0-0

Mark watched as Sain and Wil rode towards the distant fort looking for shelter. Lyndis's Legion, as Wil had named the group, had ridden hard for the rest of the day. Mark hoped that they had put enough distance between themselves and the fallen Ganelon Bandits.

Unfortunately, according to Wil's information, the Ganelon Bandits had been known to track their prey for many miles. "Kent, let's follow them. If they ran into any trouble we'd have heard it by now."

Kent nodded and urged his steed forward.

As they rode Mark looked over at Lyn riding behind Florina. The tactician scowled. He was not happy about having a pegasus knight travelling with them. True Florina was only a trainee, but she was still a threat in his eyes. There was no way she would capture him as she was petrified of men, but she might tell others about him.

"This will be fine," Lyn declared as they rode up to the derelict fort. "Who wants to be stuck inside anyway? I prefer a place where the wind can blow."

"A true daughter of the plains," Mark thought. "Not that different from the Caledonians, when you think about it."

"Both Sain and I will alternate the watch tonight," Kent offered.

Sain made a face and was promptly hit. "Why does everyone always hit me?" he moaned.

"Because you deserve it," Mark answered. He strode into the fort in search of somewhere to sleep. He was half asleep as he walked, so he missed the sound of footfalls coming from within. He turned the corner and nearly walked into a young woman. "What the!" He took a step back into Lyn who had followed him, knocking both of them over.

As the two of them fell over, Mark twisted in midair and landed right on top of Lyn. He pushed himself up and looked into Lyn's eyes. His face was inches from hers. He could feel her breath on his face.

Lyn met Mark's gaze and smiled warmly back at him. She was breathing heavily.

The tactician noticed this. He must have winded Lyn when he landed on her. Alternatively she could have been out of breath for an entirely different reason. Mark suddenly felt very self-conscious. "Er…ahem." Mark quickly rolled off Lyn before his blush became visible.

The woman who had startled Mark, then watched the spectacle in amusement, giggled. She helped Lyn to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you." She sounded sincere, except for the giggles.

Mark scowled at her.

"Uh…don't worry…about it," Lyn panted out of breath. "Who are you?"

"And why are you here?" Mark added coldly. He didn't listen to the answer as he realised that his chest didn't hurt. It should be killing him the way he fell. Maybe Lyn broke his fall enough, so that his ribs weren't jarred.

"…here's a likeness of my husband. Have you seen him?" The woman showed Mark a small picture of a large, muscular man.

Mark shook his head. "Can't say I have. Now if you'll excuse me ladies." The tactician took his leave and wandered of in search of somewhere to sleep.

Part of his mind restarted up the debate about Lyn. "I'm a hunted man. There's not a chance," he murmured to himself. Then again, Lyn was also being hunted. It could work. At that point Mark decided that his mind had gone too far. He was a loner and that was the end of it. He'd pay off his life debt and get the hell out of Lyn's life. Plus, Lyn was friends with a pegasus knight. That put an end to his internal debate. He returned his attention to finding a place to sleep.

Mark realised that he was blushing again. No! He couldn't think like that. He was a hunted man. It would never work! He stalked further into the abandoned fortress. Finding a suitable spot, he sat down with the utmost care, so as not to jar his ribs. A few moments later his head slumped forward, and he began to snore.

0-0

It was dark as he looked around. The wind was whipping in his face, despite the rider in front of him. Slowly so as not to alert his captor that he was awake, he tested his bonds. He almost laughed when he found that the rope binding his wrists together was coming loose. Ever so slowly, he began to work his hand out from under the rope.

His captor had foolishly expected him to remain docile as they rode her pegasus. She had been complacent when securing his hands behind his back.

He suppressed a cry of victory as his hand slipped free. He quickly removed the rope from his other wrist and planned his next move. He couldn't untie the rope that stopped him from falling off the pegasus, without alerting the pegasus knight. Deciding on the easiest method, Mark head butted the woman in front of him as hard as he could.

He reeled from the impact as their heads connected. He would have fallen off the pegasus, if it hadn't been for the rope securing him to the beast.

The pegasus knight slumped forward, unconscious. Strangely enough, the pegasus remained calm and continued to fly through the night.

After recovering from the blow, Mark quickly took the knight's boot knife and cut the final bonds that tethered him to the pegasus.

The point of the blade nicked the hide of the flying horse, sending it into a frenzied panic. It suddenly swerved to the right, to avoid the unseen attacker to the left.

Mark who was not expecting the manoeuvre lost his balance and fell from the mount. He watched as the ground flew up towards him. He was completely calm in the knowledge that his life would end quickly and relatively painlessly.

He only panicked when he saw the tree looming up to greet him. That might break his fall enough that he wouldn't die on impact. Instead he would die slowly and painfully.

He hit the upper branches and crashed through them. His descent was slowing as he crashed through the tree. He thought he might just survive this. He hit the thick, sturdy branch and with a cracking sound folded over it, as if he were a sheet on a washing line.

He slid off the branch and landed on the ground with a dull thud. He felt the blessed embrace of unconsciousness surround him as he passed out.

0-0

Mark felt a pressure on his shoulder and instinctively lashed out with his foot. It connected with somebody's shin.

There was a muffled scream, and then Florina fell to the floor whimpering.

Mark just stared at her as she writhed on the floor clutching her leg. After a few moments he recovered from the shock. "What the hell were you doing?" he growled menacingly, as he stood.

Florina squeaked something inaudible and scuttled away from the angry tactician.

"What!?" the growl got lower.

"L…Lyn sent me," Florina managed. "The…there are bandits…attacking!" She looked away from Mark.

"Shit!" Mark hissed. "Can you stand?" He watched as Florina climbed to her feet and took a faltering step. "Just about. Right, do you think you'll be able to fight on your Pegasus?"

Florina nodded. She started to walk towards where the others were waiting and nearly collapsed. As Mark tried to steady her, she panicked and fell over. "Stay away!" she cried.

The tactician couldn't believe what he was going to do next. Call a pegasus, was he insane? He raised two fingers to his mouth, and whistled a high warbling note. He heard some hoof beats, and then a pegasus stuck its head round the corner and whinnied at him.

"Huey!" Florina cried out in joy. She got to her feet and hobbled towards her companion.

Mark got the distinct impression that Huey was glaring at him. Glaring back at the pegasus, he set of to find the others.

0-0

Wil notched an arrow and let it fly through the remains of the wall. He watched with satisfaction as the enemy archer fell back with an arrow piercing his heart. He notched another arrow just as the bandits broke through the wall. He released his grip on the bowstring and the arrow flew through the swordsman's throat. With that Wil turned and ran down the corridor.

As he reached the corner he tripped and slammed into the wall. He watched dazed as the brigand roared in victory as he charged down the corridor after him. As the axe user reached the corner, a knife shot out at neck height, ripping the man's throat open.

"Thanks Mark!" Wil panted as the tactician helped him to his feet. As he looked he could see no trace of Mark's knife. He didn't dwell on this too long as they were still in the middle of a fight. "What should I do now?"

"Sneak out the hole in the wall. Find some concealment and take down some of the bandits near the front."

As Wil nodded and trotted off towards the hole, Mark turned in the opposite direction. As he entered the small courtyard at the forts centre, he quickly assessed is remaining troops. "Florina, Dorcas come with me," he ordered. He saw the look of protest on their faces. "Don't worry. Natalie will be fine."

Dorcas was about to argue the point when Natalie interjected. "I'll be alright. Just do what he says Dorcas." To take the sting out of her words, she cuddled up to her giant of a husband.

To Mark's amazement, Dorcas started to blush. "Okay, cut out the mushy stuff. If this works you'll be back here in few minutes." With a smirk the tactician led his small team towards the eastern entrance.

0-0

Kent thrust his lance through the mercenary's chest, before the man could hack Sain's arm off. "Sain! Watch your flank!" he shouted over the din of the battle. He turned his attention to another brigand charging at him from the left. He realised to late, that his lance was stuck in the dead mercenary's chest.

Just as the brigand was about to bring his axe down, he grunted and fell over. There was an arrow protruding from his back. "Kent! Watch your flank!" Wil called, with a manic grin on his face.

"What now?" Sain asked as he finished off the last bandit in sight.

Kent gazed around the surrounding area. "Sain, take Wil over there and stop any reinforcements. I'll go and help Lady Lyndis."

Sain watched as his friend rode off to the east. "Why is he the one that gets to help the beautiful Lady Lyndis?"

Wil's grin widened. "Because you'd just try to flirt with her in the middle of a fight."

"I wouldn't!" Sain replied indignantly.

"You did this morning."

0-0

As Mark watched his plan unfold, he couldn't help but chuckle. It was possibly one of the funniest things he had ever seen.

Dorcas was standing in a small group of trees near the forts eastern entrance. There was nothing funny about that on it's own. What was funny was the fact that a man as large as Dorcas, was trying to hide behind a small bush.

As he reflected on it, Mark decided it was definitely the strangest battle plan he had ever encountered. Also the funniest. As he watched the band of four mercenaries approached from the north. Mark became grim faced almost at once, and slid back into the shadows around the door.

He heard laughing from a distance, and suppressing his own, he unsheathed his daggers. "Nothing fancy," he told himself mentally as two of the sword wielders approached his position. A shadow flew over their heads as Florina swooped down from her perch on the fort, and skewered one of Dorcas' attackers with her lance. The other lost his head to a thrown hand axe.

As the two remaining bandits turned to stare at their fallen comrades, Mark stepped out of the shadows. His dagger came down in a flash, and lodged in his target's spine. His victim quietly slid to the ground. Mark repeated the process with the other bandit, and then sheathed his daggers.

"Let's head back in!" he called to the others. He turned and once again vanished into the shadows of the fortress.

From somewhere to the south a cry of, "Curses they're not human!" could be heard. "Listen up rogues! Retreat! Pull back!"

Mark smirked. He could guarantee that his companions were human. Although he wasn't too sure about himself these days. Shaking his head he carried on walking through the dank fort. He found his corner and settled down to sleep again.

0-0


	6. Beyond The Borders

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

0-0

Mark staggered and fell against the forts wall, causing his ribs too complain yet again. With a small groan he slid to the floor. He must have slept on his leg during the night, as it refused to work this morning. His knee had seized up. "Ooh! That's sore," he muttered to himself, as he slowly bent his leg.

As he was busy feeling sorry for himself, Mark smelt the enticing aroma of bacon being cooked. He found the rest of the group in the courtyard, huddled around a small fire. He hobbled over in the hope of receiving some breakfast. "What's cooking?" he asked.

Wil looked up from his food. "Bacon and eggs. We were quite lucky with the eggs. There's an old hen house round the back that's still got occupants."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Any roosters?"

Everyone looked at the tactician, as if he was mad. "Noooo," Lyn ventured. "Err, why did you ask that?"

"Trust me. You don't want to know while you're having your breakfast." Mark left it at that and sat down. He gratefully took the plate of bacon and eggs that Wil offered him. As ate he noticed that Florina was watching him from a distance. He sent a small wave in pegasus knight's direction, causing her to look away quickly. Smiling to himself he continued his breakfast.

As the group ate in silence, Mark reviewed their options for the day. "Kent how far are we from the Lycian border?" he queried.

Kent pondered this for a moment before answering. "If we ride hard we should reach it just after noon."

Lyn perked up at this answer. "Once we're in Lycia, the bandits will leave us alone, right?" She looked to Wil, who had become the groups impromptu bandit expert.

Wil nodded. "They should do. I doubt they'll be willing to pursue us across the border," he answered cheerfully.

Sain smiled wistfully to himself. "Lycia at last! It's been a long time. Tomorrow, we'll dine on a feast of Lycia's finest foods! And the mistress of the inn at the crossing is said to be a beauty. Ah, yes…" He grinned mischievously to himself. "Food and love. No better way to restore a man's soul. This is going to be a fine night, eh Kent?"

Lyn wrinkled her nose at Sain's remarks. Kent just sighed and slapped the back of Sain's head. "Sain if your behaviour is going to be as deplorable as ever, we'll be better off sleeping elsewhere," he added as an after thought.

Nursing his head Sain replied, "Oh, come now! That's not fair!"

Mark's patience finally snapped. "Sain, we'll stay at the inn if you'll just shut up!"

Grinning Sain nodded and wandered off to check on the horses.

"Okay, now that's been sorted, I recommend we set off as soon as possible," Mark said trying to restore some sort of order to the group.

"We can't," Lyn told him.

"Why not?"

"Dorcas said he would join us. We need to wait for him to return, before we can set off." Lyn gave Mark a sheepish look. "That is alright isn't it?"

Mark felt like beating his head against a wall at Lyn's naivety. "Lyn this is your quest. You're the one in charge. You forget that I'm just tagging along." Mark noticed a slightly hurt expression flash across Lyn's face. "Dorcas will be a great help as we have no axe users." He thought for moment. "However we still need to move out as soon as possible. We'll leave a note and walk so he can catch up with us. When he reaches us we'll mount up and ride the rest of the way."

0-0

Florina watched Mark as he talked to Kent about battle tactics and different fighting styles. The tactician intrigued her for lack of a better word. He also scared her more than the other men in the legion. He would seem cheerful around the others and then grim and depressed when he thought no one was watching. But what scared her the most was his utter contempt and hatred for her.

In an uncommon amount of courage she walked over to him. "Um M…Mark can I h…have a word with you?" She nearly fainted in fright when he turned to her.

"Kent, go scout ahead a little way. We don't want any nasty surprises," Mark ordered the cavalier. "Now what do you want Florina?" his tone was as cold as ice.

Florina gulped. "I c…came to say s…sorry." She felt nauseous.

Mark shook his head and his tone softened. "For last night? No I'm the one who should be apologizing. You only came to find me. How's your leg today?"

Florina was caught off guard by the tactician's sudden change in demeanour. "It's alright th…thank you." This is the part that made her want to crawl away into a hole and die. "H…how's your leg?"

Mark looked confused. "Stiff. Why do you ask?"

"I…um…Huey trod on it while you were asleep. I'm really, really sorry." It all came out in one rush. She tensed waiting for a blow that never came. Instead she heard the tactician laughing.

Mark whistled a high warbling note. Huey trotted up from the rear of the group. Mark while smiling, slapped the pegasus between the eyes.

Florina ran over and hugged her dazed pegasus. Huey grunted and watched Mark warily.

"Now we're even you flying pain in the arse." Mark chortled. "Look Florina I'm sorry I've been such a bastard. It's just I've had some bad experiences with pegasus knights lately."

With that he lengthened his strides and met Kent as he returned from his scouting duty. Climbed up behind Kent and called out, "Dorcas is here! Saddle up and move out!"

0-0

"Ooh! We're lost, this makes me so mad!" said a pink haired girl in a long white, shape fitting dress.

"How do you think I feel?" muttered a purple haired mage.

"What's that supposed to mean Erk?"

Erk sighed dejectedly. "You said you were sure this was the right way."

The girl turned toward the mage and fidgeted with one of her pigtails. "What's your point, Erk? What are you trying to say?"

Erk sighed yet again. "I swear, you are NOT the woman I agreed to escort…"

"What! What's that supposed to mean!" the girl screeched.

"I was employed to escort a frail Lycian priestess to Ostia…"

"Yes, and I'm that priestess," the supposed priestess cut in.

Erk snorted. "You Serra? Frail? Don't make me laugh. You'd send a hardened criminal fleeing within five minutes." He reached into his pack and pulled out a pouch of gold and passed it to the girl. "Look here's your gold. Now leave me alone and go on to Ostia alone." He turned and started to walk back the way they had come.

"No! You're MY escort, Erk!" she screeched. She dived at the young mage and tackled him to the ground. "MINE!" she shouted to get her point across. She let her escort stand up. "You're so clean and tidy." She looked at the mud caked Erk. "Well maybe not now, but a noblewoman like myself can't be seen without a proper escort." Your personality's nothing special, but you're kind of cute to look at.

"Oh sweet Elimine!" Erk thought. "She thinks I'm cute!" He toyed with the idea of burning off his face with a fireball. "No that would hurt to much," he muttered darkly.

"What was that!?"

"And I have to take you all the way to Ostia?"

Serra nodded.

"I only hope my nerves can endure the journey."

"What are you mumbling about? You're so gloomy! Hm? Something's happening over there. Let's take a look!" Serra ran off in the direction the sounds of fighting were coming from.

"Ah…Of course. The fist opportunity to get involved in trouble, and she jumps right in. No amount of money is worth this." Erk followed after Serra. His was thinking longingly of a nice cold cell in a lunatic asylum. "Somewhere in Etruria. Far away from this pink haired demon." He mused aloud. Slowly a slightly insane smile crossed his features. "Ah, bliss!"

0-0

Erk finally caught up to Serra. She was standing on top of a hill overlooking a large valley. "Look Erk, those bandits they're fighting…" she squinted. "…a girl, I think," she sounded puzzled.

"Serra, get down before we're spotted." Erk tugged at her arm but it was to late. A weasel-faced archer had spotted them and was running up the hill.

"Are you in league with the she-devil?" he asked panting.

For a long moment Erk struggled with an urge to point at Serra and say, "Yes, she's right there." Luckily for Serra he won his internal struggle. "No we're just passing through." All the same he palmed his fire tome, thumb ready to flick it open in a moments notice.

"Eek! Erk, he's threatening ME!" Serra squealed and hid behind Erk.

"Why so loud, "Erk moaned. He flicked his tome open as Weasel notched an arrow. They released their attacks simultaneously. The arrow flew at Erk's face, straight through a fireball. The wooden shaft was incinerated instantly, the arrowhead turned to molten iron. The liquid metal splashed across Erk's cheek, as he ducked to slowly.

He screamed in pain as the burning iron ate into his skin. Serra quickly brought up her staff and chanted an incantation quickly as her escort writhed on the floor trying to brush the melted iron off his cheek. A white glow surrounded Erk and quickly healed his burns, as the iron was pushed off him by the staves magic.

"Tha…thank you," he muttered. The words tasted sour in his mouth. Having to thank the one who was responsible for injuries in the first place. He stood up and looked at the archer.

The archer's bare teeth grinned back at him with the skeletal look of one who has had the flesh burned from his head. He couldn't scream as his larynx had been burnt out as well. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he collapsed.

Erk stood and quietly put another two fireballs into the man's head to end his suffering. He spotted a large group of bandits heading towards them. "Serra, let's get out of here NOW!" He turned to the cleric and saw her gibbering pointing to the corpse at Erk's feet in a state of shock. Erk smiled savagely. So she does have some humanity in her after all.

Turning back to the group of bandits charging towards them, Erk unleashed his pent up frustration. Fireballs flew from his hands cutting swathes through the enemy ranks as they charged closer. In rapid succession the bandits fell, embraced by flames.

Erk collapsed to the ground panting, his magic spent. One bandit was left standing. Erk watched as the end of his life charged towards him, axe held high. Too soon the large man was standing in front of him. The mage looked up into pitiless eyes. He finally gave in to unconsciousness.

0-0

"So what's wrong with him?" Wil asked, intrigued by Erk's comatose state.

"He's used all his magic," Mark and Serra answered simultaneously. Serra gave Mark a disapproving look.

"But he's an anima mage isn't he?" Wil queried. "I thought they channelled the natural forces."

Serra nodded. "They do, but they have to use some magic of their own in order to channel the power of nature." She smiled self-congratulatory at her explanation. "Stupid!" she added as an afterthought. She turned and left the room in search of Lyn.

Wil stuck his tongue out at her retreating back. "So Mark what do we do about him?"

"I'm not sure. He'll be out cold for a long time, until his magic recharges itself. In all honestly he's lucky to be alive." Mark studied the unconscious mage's features. He was sure he knew him from somewhere.

Wil nodded. "Yeah. The way Lyn took that bandit's head off at the last second…"

"Not that!" Mark interrupted. "Usually when someone uses all their magic, they die. Like I said, he's lucky to be alive." The tactician considered his options. "Wil, go fetch Serra, maybe she can top him up a bit."

"Do I have to?" the archer moaned. Upon seeing Mark nod, he despondently left the room.

Mark sighed in relief as he was left alone in the room with Erk. He looked at the mages features properly for the first time. The boy couldn't have seen more than fourteen winters. He considered him a child, despite the fact that they were probably separated by only five years.

It disturbed him to see a child suffer, so he pulled out one of his daggers. "Well Erk it's time for your suffering to end."

0-0


	7. Awakening

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem blah blah blah...

0-0

Lyn was considering stabbing the cleric. Serra had emerged from Erk's room in the inn and declared that he would be fine. She had then proceeded to make herself part of the legion on Sain's prompting. Lyn had just nodded, too bemused to do anything else. Since then she hadn't shut up. She prattled about how useful she and Erk would be.

It came as a relief to Lyn when Wil interrupted the one-way conversation. "Milady Serra, our tactician wishes to see you in Erk's room." He quickly ran away before the torrent of complaints could reach him.

As they walked to the mage's room Serra started again. "Really this is no way for a noblewoman such as myself to be treated, is it Lyn?" She turned to the Sacaen who nodded without comprehension. Serra took this as encouragement and continued babbling about her nobility as she headed up the stairs, and how she should really have vassals, do you think Mark would let her have vassals? Maybe when Lyn reached Caelin she could give her vassals, for her no doubt invaluable presence.

Much to Lyn's relief she shut up when she reached the door to Erk's room. Serra walked straight into the door as it refused to open. She tried to push it open and slowly it opened, shifting the weight in front of it. Serra stepped into the room and gave a small yelp of surprise.

Lyn felt her heart sink, as she saw Mark collapsed in front of the door, blood running down his arm.

0-0

Erk woke from his nightmare and screamed. Much to his relief the bandit was gone. He was sleeping in a soft bed. He settled back down with a sigh of relief. He must be in Castle Reglay. Serra, the fight, the bandit. It was all just one long dream. He was free of the pink haired demon.

As he wondered why his mouth tasted of iron, he looked around and his heart sank. This wasn't his room. In fact it looked like a room in an inn. "Why me?" he moaned softly, as the door burst open to reveal Serra.

"ERKY you're awake!" Serra squealed in delight. She ran over to the bed and started to check him over. "Were you having a bad dream?" the cleric asked in a disturbing parody of Lady Louise.

Erk shuddered at the thought. It was too horrible to fully comprehend. Lady Louise, acting like Serra. He shuddered again. "What happened?" he croaked through dried lips.

"You got us into a fight with some bandits." Serra accused her escort. "Then you used up all your magic and collapsed. Leaving poor little me defenceless."

Erk snorted.

"What was that?" Serra glared at the mage. "Anyway we were saved by Lady Lyndis the heir to Caelin's throne. And I had to offer our services to make up for the trouble YOU caused!"

Erk was confused. He couldn't remember why the fight had started, but he was sure it was probably Serra's fault somehow or other. As for her compensating this Lyndis person for any troubles she had caused. Well it was laughable.

"How long ago was the fight, and where are we?" Erk asked.

"You've been out cold since yesterday. And we're in Araphen near to the border with Bern thanks to YOUR navigating," Serra scowled at her escort.

Erk nearly choked on his tongue. "ARAPHEN!?" he shouted. "You're the one who was leading the way! Your accursed short cut has led us halfway across Lycia!" He tried to get out of bed, but Serra gently pushed him back down.

"Silly Erk, you're still weak. Get some rest," Serra told him soothingly. She walked over to the door, turning before she left. "I'm sure that you were the one who suggested the short cut." With that she skipped out of the room, giggling before Erk could object.

Erk sighed. "No amount of money is worth this." He slumped back against the bed and fell asleep again.

0-0

Lyn sat watching Mark sleep. She felt like crying as she listened to the tactician whimper in his sleep. Serra had healed his ribs and the small gash on his arm, before declaring that physically, he was fine. They still had no idea what had gone on in Erk's room, but they'd moved the tactician to a room of his own, and left him to sleep off whatever it was he was suffering from.

Straining she could just make out the words, "take your hands off me you bastard." She sat and watched helplessly as her friend continued to suffer in his private torment.

0-0

Mark spun and drew the man's sword. Thrusting with all his might, he drove it through his captor's chest. The grip on his arm lessened as the man's lifeblood slowly seeped away. Pulling the sword out of the man's chest with effort, Mark set off in search of his friends.

He'd have to be fast or the other children would all be taken away. As he walked through the streets, he passed the corpses of people he knew. There was Andre the towns baker, with a lance piercing his throat. His vanquisher lying dead next to him with an axe buried in his chest.

That was one thing the bastards hadn't been expecting, that everyone here knew how to fight. Mark paused as he heard pitiful crying coming from the next street over. He ran to a connecting alleyway and slipped through.

There in the street were about a dozen children being held prisoner by four soldiers, their armour bloody, and dented. Mark used a word that a boy his age shouldn't have known. "Karok were are you?" he muttered. Even as he said this a boy of about thirteen leapt from the low roof of a nearby building, and hewed one of the soldiers in two with a disproportionately large axe.

Smiling grimly, Mark charged out of the alley and stabbed one of the soldiers in the back. He rolled to the side as a lance stabbed into the ground were he had been a second ago.

"If you want to live, help us!" the other boy shouted, as he parried a blow from one of the remaining soldiers.

Mark watched as the small children swarmed his opponent and pinned him to the ground in a swarm of limbs and screaming rage. He turned and awkwardly stabbed Karok's aggressor. "I…thought you…weren't coming," he panted heavily.

Karok patted him on the shoulder. "I could say the same for you little Mark. Come on we need to get out of here. All the adults have been killed or captured. We're the only ones left who can use weapons." He watched as the pile of bodies dissolved to show the last soldier with his head caved in by a rock. "Nice work you lot," he praised the younger children.

"Why the hell are they doing this? You're the chieftain's son, you've heard nothing?"

Karok nodded grimly. "They gave us no sign. Although I think our tactician is a traitor. That's why the town fell so easily.

These words cut a bloody swathe through Mark's heart. "Th…that can't be t…true." Tears were running down his face.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing we can…Shit!" Karok cursed as the flaming ballista bolt struck the roof of the towns tavern. The fire set the thatch roof alight and quickly spread from one roof to another. "We need to get out of here, NOW!"

Mark nodded. His eyes hollow, and seemingly lifeless. He ran off down the street, following Karok and the other children. As they reached the town gates, he saw them. The soldiers, and the traitor. A berserk rage took him as he charged.

The soldiers saw the eleven year old boy charging at them, holding a sword that was too large for him. They found it funny until the child was upon them. One fell to a slashed knee, another to a punch in the groin and the traitor looked surprised as the sword finished its journey in his chest.

As the rage lifted, Mark stared into the dying eyes of his betrayer. He had betrayed the whole clan, but to Mark it was more personal. He had trusted this man, respected him, and loved him as a father. As the traitorous tactician gasped his last breath, Mark felt the butt of a lance slam into the back of his head. As he lapsed into unconsciousness, one thought reverberated around his head. "Why?"

0-0

He woke with a start. Looking around the room he saw Lyn sleeping in a chair, her face stained with dried tears. He smiled remorsefully. "She shouldn't care," he thought to himself. Getting out of the bed he found himself in, Mark noticed something else.

His ribs weren't complaining. The cleric must have healed them. He quietly opened the door and slid out. Walking along the corridor he stopped at the stairs. Hearing the voices of his companions drifting up the stairs, he turned to the window seeking solitude.

Pushing the window open, the tactician climbed out of it. Lowering himself from the window ledge he dropped to the dirt ground. Looking around he spotted the inns stables, and headed towards them, seeking to understand these new memories. He slipped through the stable door and spotted the ladder to the hayloft. Climbing up it he began thinking.

The traitor had been his own father. His own kin had been responsible for the atrocious bloodshed that day, six years ago. Mark thought about his own actions that day. Looking at the larger picture, he'd acted selfishly, going after his father, his betrayer. Even though clan law was on his side with regards to the slaying of a traitor, he should have stayed with the other children, and helped Karok defend them. He couldn't remember what had happened to them, no matter how hard he tried. He felt tears trickling down his face.

0-0

Mark stirred as he heard a squeak. He had dozed off in the stables hayloft. Looking around for the mouse that had woken him, he saw Florina's head poking over the top of the ladder. "What time is it?" he asked trying not to laugh.

"Noon," Florina quickly told him. "What are y…you doing up here?"

"I could ask the same thing of you."

"I…I'm getting more hay for Huey to eat." Florina hadn't moved from her spot on the ladder.

"A fair point," the tactician conceded. "Tell you what. I'll give you a hand with the hay while I tell you what I'm doing here. How does that sound?"

Florina considered this a few seconds. "Umm, if you pass the hay down to me, we can get it done faster. Sh…should we feed the other horses as well?"

Mark smiled. He was seeing a new side of Florina. She didn't seem so nervous in this environment. Then again as a trainee pegasus knight, she'd have spent a lot of time in stables tending to her mount and those of others. "Right, so how do I pass the hay down to you? It's quite a way."

Florina stifled a little giggle, and then looked guilty. "You use that pulley there. You put the hay on the platform and lower it."

"Okay then, it doesn't sound too hard."

0-0

Five minutes later Mark was regretting those words. The first time he'd un-tethered the lift to lower it, the weight had nearly wrenched his arms from their sockets. To be honest he couldn't believe that Florina, who looked so frail, would have done this on a daily basis while she was in training.

"She must be a lot stronger than she looks," he decided, as he lugged another bale into place and readied the lift.

"So…so what were you doing up there?" Florina's voice came from below.

"I was thinking about the past and trying to remember more of it," he replied as he un-tethered the lift and braced against the weight. Lowering it slowly he wondered why he'd agreed to help feed _all_ the horses in the stable, and why there where so many of them for such a small border village.

Florina grunted slightly and the weight of the lift lightened. "What were you trying to remember?" Florina sounded puzzled.

Mark began to pull the lift up _yet_ again. "About some children I knew when I was younger. Our town was attacked and everybody was either killed or captured." He stopper for a second to consider why he was telling Florina this. Maybe he just wanted to tell someone after all this time? "Yet no matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything after that. I don't know what happened to them." He laughed a mirthless laugh. "Or to me come to think of it." He heard a gasp.

"Th…that's just like Lyn! Well the…the town thing, not the memory thing."

Mark smiled remorsefully. "I suppose it is. How many more bales will you need?" he asked changing the subject. He got no reply and heard a door slamming. Looking over the edge of the hayloft, he saw that the stable was now devoid of human life. The only sign that Florina had been there were the full food troughs for the horses. "Oooookay then. Thanks for the chat," he said to no one in particular.

0-0

As he entered the inn by conventional methods, Mark was met by Lyn coming the other way at full speed. He was knocked flat on his back, cushioning Lyn's fall. "Wasn't this…the other way…round last time?" he asked between gulps of breath.

A smiling Lyn pushed herself up and looked into Mark's face. "Florina was right. You are awake!"

A heavily blushing tactician looked away and glared at a passer-by who was, in his opinion paying too much attention to them. "Yeah, now could we get up please? There's a stone digging into my back."

A still smiling Lyn helped him to his feet, before embracing him in a crushing hug. "I was…I mean we were all so worried about you." She released the tactician and took a step back to get a better look at him. "What happened to you Mark?"

Mark rubbed his ribs out of habit before looking up. "I topped up Erk's magic. How is he?"

"He's awake now." Lyn frowned. "But I thought only magic users could transfer their magic. Or least that's what Serra said."

"It's a trick the Fibernian clans came up with. Serra wouldn't know about it as the Church of Elimine deems it 'demonic'. Don't ask me how they discovered it, as no one can remember. But the ritual allows a magically inept person to transfer their magic to another person."

"Ritual?"

"Umm, yeah. Just promise not to tell anyone how it works, okay? It isn't the nicest of things"

Lyn didn't know what to think. "Ritual?" "Demonic?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she nodded none the less.

"Magic can be transferred via the blood and everyone has magic in them whether they can use it or not. You get the other person to drink a bit of your blood and it forms a link between the two of you. Then you have to concentrate like crazy, but the magic will hop from you to the blood they drank. The problem is stopping the transfer. I didn't stop it in time which is why I passed out."

"And that's why you had the gash on your arm" Lyn said slowly, coming to terms with it. "What would have happened if you had stopped the transfer?" she asked.

"Put simply. I would have died." Mark saw that Lyn was about to ask why, but he cut her off. "I did it because Erk is still just a child. He didn't deserve to suffer anymore than he had to. He was in that condition because of our conflict with those bandits.

Lyn nodded. "I suppose." She brightened up. "So what's the plan now?" she asked cheerfully.

The tactician grinned. "Same as before. Get to Caelin with out dying along the way."


	8. Blood of Pride

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

0-0

Erk and Serra presented a problem to Mark. With their addition to the group, there weren't enough horses to carry them all. So they'd paired up as best as they could. Florina, Lyn and Serra were squeezed on Huey. Erk and Wil rode behind Sain, while Kent and Dorcas rode together with Mark holding on behind them for dear life.

"We really need another horse," he grumbled as they rode along. He could just about see past the mountain of muscle that was Dorcas. He whistled appreciatively as he saw Araphen's city walls rise out of the countryside before him.

As they approached the cities gates, Mark tapped Dorcas on the shoulder. "Dorcas, can you tell Lyn that I'll catch up with you at the castle."

Dorcas turned his head. "What? Why can't you tell her your…" Dorcas felt Mark release his grip on him. He watched as the tactician hit the ground rolling. "…self." Dorcas lost sight of Mark, as Kent rode through the city gates.

0-0

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't stock that kind of thing," the shop assistant smiled weakly at Mark.

Mark sighed dejectedly. "And I'm guessing that none of the other armouries stock them either, correct?" He watched as the girl nodded again. "Alright, have you got binding for a sword hilt?"

"Oh, yes sir!" the attendant nodded enthusiastically. She led him along an isle to where binding of different lengths and widths hung.

Mark smiled darkly. "Perfect," he muttered to himself.

0-0

The thief watched his target with interest. She was moving around the city with a small entourage. He counted two cavaliers, a pegasus knight, a fighter, an archer, a mage and a cleric. He committed these facts to memory, and moved closer to listen in on their conversations.

As he grew nearer, he was shocked as his cover suddenly disappeared. The crowd in which he had been 'mingling' dispersed as its members fled from the streets. "What the…!?" Then he noticed the smoke billowing from Araphen castle. "Interesting," he commented to no one in particular.

"It is, isn't it?" a voice said from behind him.

The thief spun quickly and met the oncoming fist, jaw first. He slumped to the floor unconscious.

0-0

The man had sandy coloured hair and was wearing a red cloak over a light green tunic. Mark had been trailing him for the last ten minutes. He should have been spotted within a minute or so, but his prey was focused solely on Lyn and the rest of the group.

The smoke rising from Araphen Castle caught the tactician's eye. As he stood watching it the crowd he was standing in vanished. As he walked over to the stalker he heard him mutter; "Interesting."

"It is, isn't it?" he replied. His fist lashed out, connecting with the man's jaw as he spun round, knocking him out.

Mark rubbed his knuckles thoughtfully as he looked down at the thief/spy/assassin, whatever he was. "I suppose he could be useful." He picked up his victim and started to walk over to where Lyn was. Mark was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he failed to notice an assassin get shot in the back before he could attack Lyn.

Mark strolled into the centre of the Legion and unceremoniously dropped the thief. "You know him?" he asked Serra, upon hearing her gasp.

"Umm…yes. He's called Ma…Matthew." For once Serra didn't sound so sure of herself.

Mark decided not to press Serra on why this was. He'd find out when Matthew woke up. "Old flame is he?" he inquired to change the cleric's mood.

"What!" Serra was outraged. "A noble woman such as myself being seen with a street urchin like him." She appeared to be trembling with rage and indignation. "Only in his dreams!"

Erk sidled over to Mark. "Why did you have to ask that?" he hissed through the corner of his mouth. "She'll go on about this for hours."

"I wouldn't want to be in her good books." Mark smirked. "Look what it's done to your nerves. Is that a twitch I see?"

Before Erk could answer Lyn ran up to them. "Mark where were you?" she demanded.

"Getting supplies," the tactician replied nonchalantly. "Now what's the situation and what need's doing?"

Lyn shot him a quick glare before continuing. "The castle is under attack and the Marquess has been taken hostage. Rath here…" she nodded towards a Sacaen nomad who rode up behind her. "…has told us about a secret passage in the barracks to the north, leading to the throne room.

Rath chose to speak at that moment. "We need to release three triggers to open the passage way. One is in the guardhouse to the south of here. The other two are in the barracks itself. However they are both locked."

"And we have no keys to open them with," Lyn added. "Maybe the marauders are carrying them."

Mark grinned as he looked around at the surroundings. Near the guard house Rath spoke of were three mercenaries. The path leading towards the barracks was seemingly clear. "The keys shouldn't be a problem." He pointed towards the unconscious thief. "I found him trailing you. When he wakes up I'm sure you can convince him to open some doors for you."

He looked at the Legion. "Serra, Kent, Wil and Erk. You four come with me." He turned to the nomad. "Rath if you'd be so kind as to accompany us. Then you can show us what the triggers look like. Lyn take the others and wake up Matthew." He saw the confused look on the Sacaen's face. "It's the thief's name. Anyway when we're done at the guard house we'll come and help."

Lyn nodded and set off with Sain and Florina. Dorcas scooped up Matthew and followed after them.

Mark turned to his force. "Come on people let's move!" he shouted before running off towards the mercenaries. He watched with satisfaction as the two of the mercenaries fell to Kent's lance and Erk's fireballs. Turning to face the remaining man, Mark saw the enemy lift his hand to his mouth. "Stop him now!" he screamed.

The mercenary swallowed just before an arrow pierced his throat and another stuck into his chest. His body hit the floor with a thump.

Mark walked over to the body and opened its mouth. Seeing that it was empty, Mark cursed. He searched the corpse and only found a boot knife. Calmly Mark lifted the corpses shirt and made a several neat incisions in its midriff. After peeling back the skin and cutting through the muscle he flipped out the stomach before slicing it open. An acidic mulch sloshed out, but nothing else.

The others had watched this in horror. "Eww, gross!" Serra commented.

"Mark…why did you do that?" Kent asked. His voice was shaky as if he was about to throw up.

"When we approached him he swallowed something, instead of drawing his sword. It must have been something pretty important. If Lyn's right about them carrying keys, which she probably is…well I'll give you three guesses at what he swallowed" He turned back to the body. "Alright this is going to get a lot more messy. Everyone except Erk, go and help Lyn."

As everyone trouped off Erk stood there. "Mark, why do I have to stay?"

"Okay, when I said messy, that was an understatement. I'll need you to incinerate the leftovers. Now I'd turn away if I were you."

Erk did so without any more prompting. He stood there for several minutes trying to ignore the smell of blood and acid. His stomach was churning at an incredible rate.

"Great, just great. I'll have to break his ribs to get at it," Mark grumbled behind him.

The wet cracking sounds were too much for Erk. He fell to his knees and began to bring up his lunch.

0-0

Lyn watched as Dorcas dropped Matthew in a water trough. She laughed as the thief spluttered and floundered in the water. "Dorcas, that's cruel," she giggled.

"He was spying on us Lyn." A smile slowly slid across Dorcas's face. "I think that's punishment enough," he said before hauling the drenched thief out of the trough.

Matthew looked at the people surrounding him. It was half of the group he'd been trailing. "What hit me?" he asked.

"Our tactician," Lyn answered bluntly. "Why were you spying on us?" Her voice was now a threatening growl.

Matthew smirked. "Well whoever your tactician is they've got one impressive punch, I'll give them that. In answer to your question well…it's not everyday you see a Sacaen travelling round with Lycian knights, now is it?"

"It's a fair point Milady," Sain conceded begrudgingly.

Lyn nodded. "Well Matthew, we've decided you're going to help us. Or…or…" Lyn faltered.

Matthew grinned as he stood up. "Well it seems you can't think of a threat, so I'll be on my way. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Dorcas blocked the thief's path. The axeman smiled at Matthew. "Or," he continued, smiling. "We'll set Serra on you. She's travelling with us."

Matthew's grin vanished. "Sweet Elimine!" he cried. "Alright, what do you want me to do?" he asked, now a broken man.

0-0

"So Erk, how long have you been a mercenary?" Mark called over his shoulder. He'd removed one of the corpses lungs, allowing him access to the gullet.

"Not long, this is just part of my training. After I've escorted that pink haired demon to Ostia, I'm free to return home." Erk was grateful for the conversation. It took his mind off what was going on behind him. "So, how long have you been a tactician?"

"Too long," Mark's tone was dark. "Shit, this things tough," he muttered. He looked over his shoulder. "No! Erk, don't turn around. Got it!" he cried triumphantly as he removed a key from the bloody mass he was crouching by.

Mark stood and walked over to a nearby water trough. He thoroughly washed the gore off his arms and the key. "Erk turn around, but keep your eyes closed. You don't want to see what you're doing, trust me. Just aim for the stench," he instructed the young mage.

Luckily Erk knew the fire incantation off by heart. He blindly aimed at the foul smell and launched several fireballs towards it.

Mark watched dispassionately as the remains of the dead mercenary were turned into ash. "Right, lets open that door."

"And hope no one else swallows anything," Erk replied dryly, as they set off.

0-0

Sain nodded as the door to the barracks swung open. He had to admit that the thief was good. Tightening his grip on his horse's reigns he urged his steed forwards into a gallop. As he rode through the barracks, the mercenaries waiting there turned to watch him. He turned the horse round and raised his lance. "Come you curs. Today you shall fall to the Green Lance of Caelin.

He watched as the Lyn and Matthew crept through the door closely followed by the rest of the Legion. The mercenaries never knew what hit them, as they were cut down from behind.

"That worked better than I thought it would," Lyn declared. She sighed, as Matthew ran over to a chest.

"Treasure time," he said happily to himself, before he set to work on picking the chests lock. After a few moments it opened with a click, revealing an angelic robe inside.

Serra rushed over and grabbed Matthew's find. "Don't you think this suits me Lyn?" she asked, as she held the robe against her body. She eluded Matthew's grasp and hit him in the chest with her staff.

""Why do…you get it? I…found that," Matthew wheezed in protest.

"Yes and you naturally gave it to your superior, as a tribute to her dazzling beauty." Serra answered glibly.

Lyn just shook her head and walked further into the barracks in search of the triggers. As she turned a corner she spotted another chest. "Matthew! There's another chest round here!" she called, already getting used to the thief's company.

After what seemed an eternity of searching rooms, and turning corners, Lyn stepped through a door, bringing her face to face with a brigand. She dodged to the side of the wild axe swing and drew the Mani Katti. The blades bright glow temporarily blinded the brigand in the dim light. Lyn saw her chance and thrust her sword through the man's neck.

The brigand fell over backwards onto a raised tile. Lyn herd a grinding sound as the tile sank into the floor. There came a distant rumbling sound from the way she had come. Lyn turned on her heels and ran back down the passage. "Well now we know what the triggers look like."

0-0

As Mark and Erk walked up to the barrack's entrance they heard the sounds of fighting coming from inside. Hurrying their pace they skidded through the doorway. Before them the legion were fighting against a knight and two archers.

The knight was holding off Kent, Sain and Dorcas, while the archers were sheltered behind him taking occasional pot-shots. Wil and Rath's arrows were bouncing off the knight's armour ineffectually.

Mark turned to Erk. "Do you think a fireball or two would even the odds a little bit?"

The mage nodded and took out his fire tome. As he began to chant a glowing rune appeared in his hand.

Mark kept his eyes on the archers, as they seemed to have noticed Erk. He drew his daggers as they notched arrows and let them fly. He stepped in front of Erk and somehow managed to deflect one of the arrows. The other lodged in his shoulder and spun him to the ground, just before Erk sent two fireballs screaming at the knight.

They hit the heavy armour and burnt their way through to his flesh. The knight dropped to his knee's screaming in agony. His screaming was cut of abruptly as Matthew entered the fray carrying an armorslayer in his hands. He deftly brought the weapon down on the knight's head cleaving helm and skull alike.

Kent and Sain charged forward on their horses and finished off the two archers.

Mark sat up, and winced as his felt the arrow in his shoulder. It felt like it had lodged just under the collarbone. He quickly yanked it out with a grunt, and threw the bloody arrow to the floor. Rolling his shoulder painfully, he decided that it wasn't too bad and could wait until later. He'd just have to use his right arm more in a fight. Looking around, he saw that Dorcas was nearest to the remaining trigger. "Hey Dorcas! Stand on that raised tile until it sinks into the ground!" the tactician called out.

The fighter did so and with a loud grinding sound a large portion of wall slid into the floor. Rath rode up to the tunnels entrance and nodded his thanks to the tactician. He muttered something to his horse and they both vanished into the tunnel.

Pressing his hand against his shoulder to stem the flow of blood, Mark stood up and when no one was looking his way, followed the nomad. As he walked down the subterranean passage he rummaged in his pack and found an old vulnery. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he proceeded to pour the runny salve over his shoulder.

0-0

Lyn cursed her luck as she attempted to retrace her steps for the fourth time. These barracks might as well have been a labyrinth. She paused as she heard the sound of talking. Drawing her sword as a precaution she followed the sound to its source.

As she turned the finally corner, Lyn saw Kent talking to Dorcas. Sighing in relief she ran up to them. "Sorry, I got lost," the Sacaen admitted shamefully. She spotted the tunnel that hadn't been there when she left. "It looks like we succeeded."

Kent didn't look too happy though. "Yes Milady, we did. Although…" he paused unsure how to brake the news to her.

At this moment Dorcas took up the thread. "Regrettably, Mark was wounded in the fight."

All the colour drained from Lyn's face. "What! Is he alright!" she demanded.

"We don't know. He's disappeared again." Dorcas looked at the floor. He'd lost their tactician twice in one day now. He just hoped it didn't turn into a bad habit.

0-0

"Rath! How can you speak to me like that?" Marquess Araphen demanded. "I have treated you well, have I not? I have paid you well. I have treated you better than your kind deserves."

Rath just shook his head. "You will never understand. My service ends here." With that the Sacaen turned and strode out of the throne room.

Once the door had closed a figure stepped out from behind the pillar to confront Marquess Araphen. "So how do you feel about people from the Western Isles?" He smiled inwardly at the Marquess' panicked face. "Relax. No harm will come to you if you answer the question honestly." As an after thought he tried to wipe the blood and soot from his face. He only succeeded only in smearing it.

"Tho…those barbarians are worse than the Sacaen savages," Marquess Araphen growled. He was becoming angrier by the second, as this man treated him like a commoner.

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Do not speak foul of people better than you, fool." He ignored the outraged calling for guards, as he cleaned one of his daggers on a nearby tapestry. "Fool indeed," he muttered to himself. What's the point of calling for guards when the last surviving one just quit? He sheathed his dagger and proceeded to clean the other one.

When his task was done the cloaked figure walked to the door of the throne room, ignoring the shouting behind him. As he opened the door he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and spin him round. He raised his fist and used the force of the spin to send his aggressor sprawling to the floor. "One last thing Marquess." Mark let venom drip from his every word. "If I ever hear you referring to a Sacaen in such a way again, and I'll know if you do…Then I swear I will kill you."

0-0

Mark found the Legion's camp a mile south of Araphen's gates. The sun had set an hour ago, making him almost invisible as the green of his cloak blended in with the surrounding countryside. When he was satisfied that they hadn't set a watch, he entered the camp.

He smirked when he realised that he had been wrong. Lyn or Kent (most probably Kent,) had set Erk the task of keeping watch. Mark patted the slumbering boys head as he passed him. Setting himself down by the campfire, the tactician retrieved his latest acquisitions, drew his daggers and set to work.

0-0

That's the end of the overhauled chapters. Everything after this will actually be new.

Until then,  
Spingleburt.


End file.
